Biophilic design aims to reconnect humans with nature, countering urban stress. However, clothing creates barriers that hinder sensory interaction with the environment, resulting in sensory dissonance. Designing Aletheic Spaces can foster deeper connections to nature, emphasizing authenticity and sensory engagement for overall well-being.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
Pushing the envelope of biophilic design
The architecture and design world is obsessed with biophilic design. It is a multi-million-pound architectural principle that acknowledges our innate, evolutionary need for nature.
Organizations frequently strive to get a ‘Well Building’ certification by adding elements of biophilic design to the built environment. These are powerful interventions, and can make buildings less uncomfortable by creating a more coherent sensory experience. However, the pervasive sense of urban stress suggests this is only a partial antidote.
Biophilic design is supposed to improve wellbeing in the built environment. Its aim is to soothe our anxious, urban minds. However, our deepest connection to the natural world is still blocked by a simple, social barrier.
Skin: our largest sense organ
One way in which I believe we are failing to achieve true sensory coherence is because we are ignoring a fundamental sensory organ of human connection: the skin.
Biophilic design tries to re-establish harmony, but clothing acts as a permanent, often unnecessary, barrier. It insulates us, muffling the vital signals of the environment – the exact feel of the air as it moves, the subtle shift in temperature as the sun ducks behind a cloud and the gradual changes in humidity that affect whether (and how much) we perspire.
Our brain cannot relax into nature whilst it is making an effort to understand it, and that is because we are dulling our senses.
Clothing covering the skin is like smearing Vaseline on your spectacles
Our bodies evolved naked on the open savannah, where all of our senses worked in harmony. The vista of the landscape, the rustle of the wind, and the feeling of warmth or coolness on our skin all delivered a single, coherent message to the brain: you are safe.
But in the built environment of today – with its hard surfaces, artificial climates, and constant noise – our senses are in a perpetual state of low-grade conflict, or sensory dissonance.
The natural conclusion to biophilic living, and the simplest way to achieve total sensory immersion, is to engage with nature as we evolved: unclothed.
The interior life of the body
The practice of naturism is not about challenging social mores; it is about hacking into a deeper pathway to wellbeing.
In a hyper-visual, social-media saturated culture, we are trained to treat our bodies as objects to be judged, groomed, and displayed. This constant self-objectification is mentally exhausting and fuels anxiety. It separates us from our physical selves, turning the body into a source of stress rather than a reliable instrument.
Nudity directly confronts this by shifting our focus inwards. When you are fully exposed to the elements, your body’s self-regulation mechanisms become immediately apparent. You become acutely aware of your goosebumps, the tingle of a breeze, the hairs on your arms standing upright or the warmth spreading across your back.
Naturism significantly enhances Interoceptive Awareness (IA) – the ability to accurately sense and interpret signals from within the body, such as one’s heartbeat, tension, or gut feelings. There are multiple studies that support this.
Interoceptive Awareness
Research has shown that individuals who regularly engage in naturism have higher Interoceptive Awareness. This matters profoundly because high Interoceptive Awareness seems to be negatively correlated with self-objectification. When you learn to trust your body’s internal signals, you stop seeing it as an external image and start seeing it as a competent, reliable system.
This is the psychological leap: the body moves from being a passively viewed object (even from its owner’s perspective) to an actively trusted subject, creating an embodied earth kinship that is profoundly grounding. Naturism is a simple, non-consumerist way of combatting the pervasive body image anxiety plaguing much of the Western world.
Designing for unconcealedness
If this is the most direct route to genuine human-nature connection, how do we translate it into the built environment?
We must begin designing for authenticity. We need to move past the idea of biophilic design as merely a way to increase productivity and start seeing it as a genuinely useful tool for wellbeing.
This means creating an Aletheic Space, a concept drawn from the Greek word meaning ‘unconcealedness’ or ‘truth’. An Aletheic Space is an environment – natural or constructed – that offers safety and privacy. It allows the occupant to experience the profound vulnerability – and subsequent liberation – of being totally uncovered and authentic.
This is not a space for public display, but a deeply private retreat.
For an architect or an interior designer, it demands a focus on:
Boundary management
Eliminating any sightlines or sound leaks that might trigger social anxiety, whilst still allowing a complete exposure to, an immersion in, the environment. This could, and should, include the use of plants to create natural barriers that allow light and breezes to penetrate into the space.
Sensory richness
Using materials (stone, rough timber, natural fibre, moss, bark, cork, etc.) that provide varied, non-jarring tactile feedback to the skin.
Microclimates
Designing sheltered courtyards or enclosed garden rooms that allow for comfortable, full-body exposure to air, light, and subtle temperature shifts, even if the weather is against us.
The ultimate aim of biophilic design is human flourishing.
We are adept at creating visual connections, but until we design environments that invite our largest organ into the conversation, we will only ever be scratching the surface of our restorative potential. It is time for us to stop hiding from nature, and perhaps, stop hiding from ourselves.
If you would like to discuss how to make biophilic design truly immersive or would like some ideas about the practical ways to create aletheic spaces, please get in touch.
In this article I explore the idea of aletheia, or truth revealing, through vulnerability in nature. It emphasizes the liberating yet challenging experience of being completely exposed to, and immersed in nature whilst also being safe. Suggestions on how to foster this connection at home are offered as well as ideas about wild swimming and accessing and creating secluded areas for contemplation.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
Be a part of nature, not just an observer of it
The concept of aletheia is all about the process of unconcealment in order to realise a truth about ourselves and our place in the environment.
By baring all and removing that which separates us from nature we can then truly become part of nature. It is both liberating and challenging to be so exposed. Liberating in the sense of total freedom from artifice and judgement but challenging as you recognise your vulnerability as an individual – just one of over eight billion people – in the vastness of nature.
That heightened sense of vulnerability can be enlightening and thought-provoking, and maybe even a bit thrilling (much like getting on a roller coaster for the first time). Sometimes, however, the fear of exposure and judgement can override the positive sense of self knowledge. This is why a sense of safety and trust is vital.
If you know that you are safe and that you won’t be interrupted, then baring all – literally and figuratively – in a natural, or naturalistic, environment can bring clarity to your thoughts and a sense of peace and calm.
I touched on this experience in an earlier post. Now, I will discuss some of the ways by which you can practically experience safe vulnerability.
Raw immersion in nature
There are times and places when being alone in a natural place can be awe-inspiring. Sometimes, just the vastness of a landscape means that it is possible to be away from any distraction from technology or any interruption from another person. It is possible to overlook a landscape and be aware of any ‘threat’ long before it becomes obvious. That sense of being alone and uncovered in the grandeur of nature allows one to appreciate the truth about our place in the environment.
As well as being immersed in a landscape, immersion in a more literal sense is also worth investigating. Wild swimming has become an increasingly popular activity, and naked wild swimming allows a truly deep connection with the environment and a total sensory experience (although you should always be with someone else, for safety reasons).
Sometimes, nature can be more intimate and sheltering. A woodland clearing or a secluded spot on a river bank can provide refuge and shelter and be ideal places to have an aletheic experience.
Often, natural places are busy. After all, getting into nature is good for us and a popular activity. This can make being alone with your thoughts in nature more difficult – especially when you wish to experience it in a raw, unconcealed state.
If you are lucky enough to have access to private land, with permission, then your opportunities are greater. The chances of being disturbed are lessened and you can immerse yourself in the environment on your own terms.
Many naturist clubs and associations have areas of wilderness or woodland on their land. My local venue has over 20 hectares of land, and a large part of that is woodland. That is a place where I can find a spot to stop, think and experience benefits such as forest bathing.
Sometimes, just knowing when a place is likely to be quiet will give you the opportunity that you need. Experiencing the majesty of nature in moonlight can be a profound experience, as can getting to a beach early in the morning to experience the crash of waves onto the shore when no-one else is there.
Creating a safe space closer to home
Getting out into nature to experience aletheia is not always easy, especially if you live in an urban area or if transport is not readily available. It is possible to create spaces in and around the home where the feelings associated with safe vulnerability can be achieved.
If you have a garden – even a small one overlooked by neighbours – a secluded nook can be created easily and at a low cost. The careful placement of plants and structures such as a trellis and pergola can provide the safety of privacy whilst still being permeable and open to the elements. Balconies and courtyards can also be planted and screened to increase privacy whilst also bringing nature closer to the home.
Indoor spaces also provide opportunities for connection to nature in a way that provides safe vulnerability. It is possible to create a simple aletheic space for a very low cost that provides both an immersion in a naturalistic environment with the security of being in one’s own home. It doesn’t even have to be a dedicated room. You can set up a corner in a larger room
The use of screening plants near doors or windows, sheer voile curtains over large windows and large houseplants create the aesthetics and textures. Adding natural scents and a nature-based soundscape from a smart speaker can help to create a holistic sensory experience and really bring a sense of the outdoors into the home.
The keys to safe vulnerability
Aletheia is the experience of revealing truth about ourselves and our environment through stripping away artifice and the unnecessary. It is about authenticity. Sometimes, however, we have to simulate an environment in order to experience the fleeting sense of vulnerability – the butterflies in the stomach – that can lead to a deeper understanding of ourselves.
In the environments where we live and work, this might require some forethought. Privacy might be an issue, or the risk of distractions from people or – more likely – our phones.
These can all be overcome, often with little cost attached. The keys are understanding how to use places and time to their best effect.
Contact me for advice about your own space and how to create an aletheic environment?
Wellbeing stems from comfort, defined as feeling secure both physically and psychologically. Radical Comfort emphasizes a fundamental approach to design, prioritizing user needs over superficial aesthetics. It integrates physical, psychological, and environmental elements, aiming for spaces that foster true ease through biophilic elements and understanding human sensory experiences.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
Wellbeing is a direct result of comfort. When you are comfortable, you have greater satisfaction with your life (and work) and you are better able to achieve your goals. So, what is comfort? And, why radical comfort?
Comfort is about feeling at ease. It means that the physical environment is telling your senses that you are safe. It means reducing confused and contradictory inputs and it is very much about our psychological state.
Wellbeing is not just about design
Research on workplace wellbeing has consistently shown that the single biggest influence on wellbeing isn’t the design of the environment, but the culture of the organization. No amount of state-of-the-art biophilic design will cancel the effects of toxic management styles, lack of agency and extreme monitoring of every keystroke or toilet break.
The same applies in society. Authoritarian regimes seem quite keen to develop fabulous biophilic environments. Whilst I would never want to see those environments removed, they will never lead to true comfort when press freedom is restricted, political discussion is regarded as a threat to the state and human rights are abused. There is a whiff of ‘Bread and Circuses‘ about such installations.
So, what does ‘Radical Comfort’ mean?
The word ‘Radical’ is often thought of as being related to being revolutionary or promising major change, which it is. It also has an older meaning: of, belonging to, or from a root or roots; fundamental to or inherent in the natural processes of life.
Radical Comfort is a philosophy that seeks to satisfy human comfort at its root – at its fundamental, and unmediated level. It is the uncompromising pursuit of a state of physical, psychological, and environmental ease.
Radical Comfort moves beyond standard ideas of biophilic design by acknowledging that the most fundamental connection to nature and a sense of belonging in nature occurs when the individual is free from artifice, pretence and psychological barriers, which enable to them encounter their true selves.
Radical Comfort and design
Most design only achieves surface comfort, but Radical Comfort is a more holistic and evidence-based way of doing things. It could lead to spaces where the environment is perfectly tuned to the users’ needs. This evidence-based approach actually asks questions about what the user needs rather than simply assuming and imposing.
This approach to biophilic design is founded on the belief that human wellbeing is inseparable from our biological reality. It is a design language that honours the body as a natural component of the ecosystem, not an alien presence requiring separation and concealment.
Our search for aletheia (truth / unconcealment) drives the pursuit of Radical Comfort: the authentic truth of human wellbeing.
Physical Radical Comfort
This is design for the needs of the highly sensitive, unencumbered body. Specifically, thermal regulation, tactile sensation, acoustics and movement.
When our senses are free to work together, we are able to understand our environment with minimal mental effort. This reduces stress, frees up mental capacity and increases comfort. Our senses most effective at telling us the truth about our environment when they are unblocked and .
The touch points
By designing for the comfort of our largest sense organ, the skin, we need to reject materials that feel artificially cold, rough or sticky to bare skin. High quality, sustainably-sourced natural materials are worth investing in.
Textures make a big difference too. Wood, cork and moss not only offer greater visual interest, but the variety of different textures add to the tactile interest too.
Furniture should be designed without pressure points, harsh seams, or restrictive forms. The design should accommodate the fluid movement of the unburdened body.
We must also consider our feet
They are in near constant contact with the environment. When you think about it, our feet are remarkable parts of the body. We are naturally unstable structures – tall and top heavy – and by rights we should be constantly falling over. Our centre of gravity is about two thirds of the way up from the ground, yet our feet have a total area in contact with the ground of about only four hundred square centimetres (about two-thirds the area of a sheet of A4 paper). The nerve endings in our feet and the fine control of the muscles in our feet and legs work constantly to stop us crashing to the floor.
This means that we should allow our feet to experience the full properties of the surface. Fine changes to textures and warmth can be excellent, yet subtle, signposts to help us navigate a space more easily.
Invisible and untouchable elements: thermal and acoustic comfort
The unclad human form is highly sensitive to temperature fluctuation. A Radical Comfort space should allow, as far as is possible, as much individual control of heating, cooling and air flow. This is relatively easy in the home, but somewhat more difficult in an office or other commercial space. Having said that, some office furniture manufacturers have started to incorporate adjustable heating and cooling elements in desk tops that provide warmth around the wrists – an especially sensitive area that can help regulate body temperature.
I mentioned in a previous post about how getting into a state of flow can make the work day seem easier. Distractions can break that flow state, and it can take a long time to get back into it. One of the most frequent and annoying distractions is noise. Radical Comfort requires quiet (not necessarily silence) and the absence of distracting sound.
This can be achieved with a number of biophilic elements: plants and moss are good at absorbing and diffracting noise, and synthetic soundscapes that produce subtle non-rhythmic sounds, reminiscent of a breeze or waterfall, or even the lapping of waves on a stony beach have been demonstrated to be very effective at masking distracting noise.
Light and shadows
Radical Comfort takes into account our natural biorhythms and how we respond to light throughout the day. In our wild, ancestral state, humans evolved to respond to changes in light intensity and quality throughout the day. As the light changed, so various hormones were produced or supressed affecting our mood, alertness, appetite and sleeping patterns.
Fortunately, biodynamic lighting is available to replicate these natural patterns. In the home, smart lighting can be programmed to approximate the changes during the day, but in commercial buildings, really sophisticated systems can be deployed to great effect. Biodynamic lighting is even used in some aircraft to reduce the impacts of jet lag.
As well as the quality of light, we should think about how the light plays around a space – the shadows cast, the direction it comes from, glare produced and the interaction with paint colours. This requires careful consideration of wall finishes, ceiling heights, and reflective surfaces – even the use of mirrors to move light around a space to borrow views from the outside and bring them in.
We can even consider the Golden Hour effect in the context of an aletheic environment. The space could be designed to maximize soft, warm light during the hours of rest and relaxation. Low light levels can enhance relaxation and the feeling of wellbeing as well as reducing self-consciousness through shade and deeper shadows – a key step toward psychological Radical Comfort.
Psychological Radical Comfort
Comfort is not just physical, it is psychological as well. A good sensory environment is critical for our sense of safety, but we must also consider the mental environment as well.
In fact, good psychological comfort can outweigh the problems of a poor physical environment as long as there is a feeling of security and the ability to be one’s self without judgement or interference.
In design terms, a place of Radical Comfort is about creating a space where the user feels absolute security, privacy and agency. The user of the space decides who is let in, and under what conditions.
Such a space minimizes stress and the feeling of the need to perform, or to conceal, any aspect of the self.
This could mean the use of materials such as privacy glass in windows – allowing a view out, but restricting a view in – or the careful placement of screens and plants. These could be permeable to a degree to allow light and breezes in without ever fully exposing the private space.
On the other hand, places where complete trust and acceptance are found, such as in naturist venues, can be ideal spaces for being completely, authentically, uncovered without fear of judgement or objectification. The creation of new kinds of aletheic, naturist environments away from traditional settings is one that I am particularly interested in exploring.
The biophilic envelope
Radical Comfort seeks to guarantee a restorative environment by creating a seamless interaction with living systems (biophilia). This could mean designing interior and exterior spaces that are fully private and secure, creating a sense of being enveloped by nature. The space will allow for the safe experience of the liberated state, and is the key to turning a garden or room into an aletheic environment rather than just a pretty space.
Plants, water features, and textures are not merely decorative but should be used to deliver an optimized, positive sensory input. This could include using plants with pleasant scents (which is easier in a garden than indoors) and tactile qualities that invite one to touch and feel the foliage.
Plant displays can also be used to optimize the acoustic environment too. Research carried out as long ago as the 1990s showed how plants and plant displays could absorb, diffuse and refract sound. Indoors, they can be placed to reduce echoes. Outdoors, trees are especially good at absorbing noises.
Biophilic elements can be actively used to improve air quality and humidity to a therapeutic level, even exceeding standards such as the WELL building standard. Green walls, and especially the new generation of active air green wall systems, are very good at improving indoor air quality by reducing pollutants and improving humidity – something that would be especially beneficial to uncovered skin. When used well, the synergy of function and biophilic beauty can have a significant benefit.
My background in plant science and horticulture, as well as my long experience of biophilic design, allows me to focus on the use of greenery and other aspects of interior landscaping to maximize Radical Comfort. If you would like to learn more or would like some advice on a project, then please get in touch.
… or how an intersection between Greek and Danish philosophies might improve our wellbeing
In this post, I explore the interactions between Greek concept of aletheia and Danish idea of hygge as tools for enhancing wellbeing during winter, looking at how creating a cosy environment fosters introspection, authentic connections, and a deep appreciation for sensory experiences.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
We are past the autumn equinox and, even though the weather remains warm(ish), thoughts turn to winter.
I don’t much like winter. I miss the sunshine and it makes me feel gloomy. I do wonder whether I might experience a mild form of seasonal affective disorder.
A few years ago, the Danish concept of hygge was popularised. The idea of cosy contentment and hunkering down in a warm room with flames, blankets and subdued lighting can be comforting and a good way to get through the cold, dark months.
Aletheia, a Greek concept, is about a process of revelation. It is not about finding an unchanging truth, but rather about uncovering something that was previously hidden or obscured.
In the context of a cold, dark winter, this could mean a few different things
Uncovering inner truths
The introspective nature of winter, with its shorter days and more time spent indoors, naturally encourages quiet reflection. Hygge, with an emphasis on warmth, soft lighting, and stillness, creates the ideal physical environment for this kind of ‘un-forgetting’. If you consciously create a comfortable, safe space, you are better able to let go of distractions and consider deeper thoughts and feelings that might be buried beneath the busyness of the other seasons.
The truth of a moment
Hygge is fundamentally about being in the moment. This could be as simple as experiencing the warmth of a fire, the taste of a hot drink or the comfort of a blanket. This is a form of aletheia. The truth being uncovered is not a grand philosophical statement, but the simple, profound reality of a specific sensory experience. The cold weather outside serves as a stark contrast that highlights and uncovers the preciousness of the warmth and comfort inside.
Uncovering our nature through human connection
Hygge often involves shared experiences with friends and family. Intimate gatherings around a table or fireplace might lead to people having more open and honest conversations. In this context, aletheia is the uncovering of mutual understanding and the deepening of relationships. The shared experience of being together in a cosy, protected space can allow for a more authentic form of connection to emerge.
Aletheia, biophilia and hygge
I have a professional interest in biophilic design, so this intersection is very more compelling to explore. The choices you can make in creating a hygge-inspired space, such as the materials, the lighting, the arrangement of plants, are not just about aesthetics. They are a deliberate process of uncovering the potential for a space to be a sanctuary. The truth you are revealing is that a human-made environment can be a profound source of well-being and connection to nature, even when the natural world outside is dormant or unwelcoming.
So, where are the intersections and what do they look like?
I think very visually. I like diagrams and I often imagine and describe things as shapes and colours. So, I tried to create a Venn diagram of the relationship between aletheia, hygge and biophilia.
Introspection and self-reflection. Confronting inner thoughts, understanding one’s character, intentions.
Authenticity. Stripping away artifice, being genuine with self and others.
Clarity and insight. Gaining deeper understanding, seeing what’s essential.
Presence. Being fully aware of the current moment and its realities.
Revelation of nature’s cycles. Understanding life, dormancy, resilience.
Truth of human connection. Deepening relationships through shared vulnerability.
Biophilia (love of life and connections with nature)
Sensory coherence. Engaging all senses with natural stimuli (sight, sound, smell, touch).
Natural light and views. Maximizing natural light, connecting to external landscapes.
Natural materials and textures. Incorporating wood, stone, water features.
Plants and greenery. Indoor plants, conservatories, gardens.
Patterns and forms in nature. Fractals, organic shapes, natural rhythms.
Sense of place. Environments that evoke natural settings and processes.
Hygge (cosy contentment and wellbeing)
Warmth and comfort. Soft blankets, cushions, fires, gentle heating.
Atmosphere and ambiance. Soft, layered lighting (candles, lamps), quiet sounds.
Presence and mindfulness. Appreciating simple pleasures, being in the moment.
Social connections. Shared experiences with loved ones, community.
Safety and security. Creating a sanctuary, a protected space.
Simplicity and decluttering. Focusing on what is useful for comfort, without it being distracting.
What happens in the middle?
When you get to the middle of the Venn diagram and look at Aletheia X Biophilia X Hygge, what do we find?
Holistic wellbeing
The combination creates an environment that supports physical comfort, mental clarity, emotional authenticity, and a deep connection to the natural world.
Mindful nature immersion
By creating cosy, nature-rich meditative spaces, you can encourage deep, present-moment reflection and the uncovering of personal and universal truths.
Winter sanctuary for revelation
To get a more complete connection with nature, try and adapt spaces such as a conservatory to offer warmth, natural beauty, and a safe, freeing environment for introspection and genuine connection during the dormant winter months.
Naturism as an extension of hygge
While hygge often focuses on being cosy and wrapped up, nudity presents a compelling alternative perspective. It is a way to achieve a feeling of comfort and contentment by embracing vulnerability and freedom.
Comfort in one’s own skin
Hygge is about creating a space where you feel completely comfortable. For a naturist, this includes being comfortable in one’s own skin. A warm, comfortably-lit living room with natural textures provides the perfect environment for this. To experience a sense of comfort that is not dependent on external layers of clothing, a form of naked hygge.
Simplicity and presence
Both hygge and naturism champion simplicity. Hygge focuses on the simple pleasures of life, and naturism removes the complication and consumerism associated with fashion. This shared emphasis on simplicity makes it easier to be present in the moment and appreciate the authentic truth of an experience.
Naturism as an aletheic experience
When you are in your sanctuary you are not on show. The people you are with (if not enjoying solitude) are those that you are close to and who you choose to be with. Being naked in a biophilic, hygge space allows for the ultimate un-forgetting of societal artifice, fostering body acceptance and a direct, authentic sensory connection to a nature-inspired sanctuary.
Nudity is a powerful, practical extension of both aletheia and hygge. It is a way to achieve the desired state of comfort and wellbeing, not just a lifestyle choice.
The key connection is that naturism is fundamentally about truth and authenticity. Uncovering the body strips away the layers of clothing that can serve as both physical and social barriers.
Uncovering truth
In the context of aletheia, naturism is a profound act of truth telling. It challenges the societal norm that our bodies should be hidden, uncovering a more authentic self-image.
Truth of self
Unclothed, you confront the truth of your own body, without the adornments and artifice of fashion. This can lead to a deeper sense of self-acceptance and body positivity.
Truth of connection
In a social setting, naturism removes a major psychological barrier. Without the social cues and judgments that clothing can impose, people can interact on a more fundamental, human level. This can “uncover” a truer, more egalitarian form of human connection.
Truth of nature
I am not at all religious, nor even spiritual. However, as both a humanist and a biologist, I appreciate the organic and natural world and I am always very conscious that we are an integral part of nature, not just a bystander.
Naturism is a direct way to dissolve the boundary between the person and the natural environment. Being outside in a garden or a natural space without clothing – even for the briefest of time in winter – can create a profound sense of integration and belonging, a physical expression of biophilia. A few minutes of enveloping your body in fresh, crisp air reveals the simple truth that you are a part of nature, not separate from it.
When you combine aletheia, hygge, biophilia and naturism in your home, you are not just creating a cosy space. You are building a sanctuary that actively promotes self-acceptance, authentic connection and a deeper, more truthful relationship with both your body and the natural world.
Moving from the philosophical to the practical – how to create an aletheic hygge space in the home
The living room is the perfect place to start, as it is often the heart of the home and a space for both solitary contemplation and shared connection. Combining aletheia and hygge in a living room means creating an environment that is not just cosy, but also revealing of natural truth and human well-being.
Here are some practical ideas for your living room, broken down into key design principles:
The aletheia of light
Winter can be a time of darkness, but light is a key element of both hygge and aletheia. The truth of the outside world is found in the limited natural light, and aletheia indoors is about a conscious revelation of light in your space.
Let’s start by making the most of what natural light is available. It might be limited, so try and squeeze as much benefit out of it as possible.
Position furniture to take advantage of any natural light coming through windows and use mirrors opposite windows to reflect and amplify the light you do have. This is a subtle yet powerful biophilic principle. Even on a grey day, you are consciously acknowledging and maximizing the natural world outside.
Make use of technology. Smart lighting can be a real boon at this time of year. Intensity and colour temperature can be adjusted, and even automated, to complement the changing conditions outside and if you get it right, the connection between indoors and out can become almost seamless. This not only looks better (as the tone of the light from natural and artificial sources can be matched), but it might reduce eye strain too.
Placing lamps behind objects, such as furniture, so that it washes the wall or ceiling with light rather than being directed into the room can also be calming and is also more naturalistic.
Next, especially in the evenings, consider layered lighting. Instead of using, harsh overhead lighting, use multiple sources, such as table lamps, with warmer toned bulbs. Think about adding a floor lamp near your favourite armchair, a table lamp on a side table, and even a cluster of candles (including the very realistic LED flame versions) on the mantlepiece or a coffee table. The soft, shifting glow of candles is an excellent way to create a warm, calm atmosphere.
The biophilic truth of texture and materials
Our connection to the natural world is fundamental, and biophilic design is all about recreating some of those links in the artificial environments of buildings. This can be expressed through the materials that are used.
Tactile textiles are a good place to start. Layering is key for both visual warmth and physical comfort and for breaking up the harsh shapes created by straight lines and sharp corners.
A chunky knitted woollen throw draped over the sofa, a pile of textured cushions, and a deep pile wool rug would both look and feel warm. Natural colours will add a biophilic touch as well. These textures encourage you to physically engage with the space and feel the comfort. The feelings are definitely amplified and more sensual when naked.
Natural materials that tell a story of their origins are a good way of reconnecting with nature during the cold, damp months of the year. Wooden furniture, a wicker basket for blankets, or a stone or ceramic vase all bring a sense of the outdoors in. The ‘truth’ revealed here is that these elements are not just decorative – they are part of a larger, living system. You might even consider collecting some winter elements from outside, such as logs for the fireplace or a simple arrangement of pinecones and evergreen branches.
Horticultural aletheia: bringing life indoors
In winter, when the garden is dormant, the truth of nature’s persistence can be revealed indoors. Houseplants grouped together can create a mini-ecosystem. Wall mounted planters or moss panels can bring vegetation to eye level. Choose plants that are tolerant of low light levels, and consider a variety of textures and sizes to create a naturalistic look.
As well as house plants, consider some seasonal botanical displays. Cut winter branches, dried grasses, pine cones, seed pods or even a small basket of nuts are all worth considering. The beauty of these elements is in their stripped-back, honest form. They remind us that even in stillness, there is a quiet, powerful life force.
The human truth: hearth and sanctuary
Finally, the living room should be a sanctuary for the human experience. Hygge is about creating a space for this, and aletheia is about the profound truths that can emerge within it. So, it makes sense to be comfortable.
Create a cosy nook with a comfortable armchair and a small table for a book and space for a hot drink or a glass of wine. It’s a place designed for introspection and quiet contemplation, where you can be alone with your thoughts.
If you have a fireplace, it’s the natural heart of the room – a literal hearth. If not, you can create a similar focal point with a well-curated bookshelf, a gallery wall of art, or a collection of cherished objects. These elements tell the truth of your identity and your journey, making the space uniquely your own and a place for genuine self-reflection.
By combining these elements, your living room becomes more than just a place to escape the cold. It becomes a space where the sensory comforts of hygge facilitate the deeper process of aletheia, uncovering the truths of nature, beauty, and your own inner world.
Need some advice?
Get in touch for advice on creating a snug, biophilic and aletheic nook in your home to get through winter.
This post explores the concept of “aletheia,” connecting truth to sensory experiences, particularly in natural environments. Does a complete immersion in the environment heighten sensory awareness, especially regarding taste and smell?
Aletheia relates to truth, unconcealdness and revelation. Aletheia is about a process of revelation and uncovering something that was previously hidden or obscured.
This all sounds very profound and a bit philosophical, but the ways by which we connect with the environments we are in can help us to reveal more about our own nature, as well as the nature of the space we occupy.
We can achieve this is either by being in nature, or by creating built environments that stimulate our senses that can replicate the experience of being in our ‘wild’ state.
A sensory environment
As I have mentioned before, biophilia is all about making sense of our world by experiencing sensory stimuli that complement each other to tell us the whole story about where we are rather than confuse us with mixed and contradictory messages.
In many buildings, biophilic design focuses mainly on visual elements, followed by the acoustic environment and then textures and materials. Our chemical senses – essentially smell and taste – are ignored or only partially addressed by incorporating scents. This makes me wonder whether we are missing out on something.
Is it possible to incorporate taste and smell as part of the aletheic experience?
In an aletheic environment, we should expect that our senses are heightened and that we could experience things with greater clarity. This is likely to be amplified when we make the maximum connection with our environment and uncover our whole selves and stand naked in nature and be naked together.
It is true that direct, empirical, research about whether naturism heightens the senses is limited. However, there is some research that supports the idea that nudity enhances the awareness and receptivity of the senses – especially what is known as heightened interoceptive awareness.
There is also – often anecdotal – evidence from the naturist community . This may be more a shift in perception rather than a measurable increase in sensory acuity.
The most direct sensory impact is on our skin and the bundle of senses we often refer to us touch. Being in a natural space without clothing allows for direct contact with the elements. We feel of the sun’s warmth, the breeze, the ground beneath our feet. Many naturists feel that this direct contact with nature’s elements can foster a sense of grounding and a deeper connection to the environment.
By shedding the barriers to our senses (such as clothing), individuals may become more attuned to the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and sensations of a natural space.
While there’s no conclusive scientific evidence proving that being naked makes your sense of smell or taste sharper, it seems unlikely that nudity will dull them. It is known, however, that nudity increases interoceptive awareness – our perception of the sensations inside of our body.
So, how can we bring taste and smell into an aletheic environment?
I recently wrote a post about meditation. The practice centres on noticing how you feel. Noticing our feelings when uncovered brings them sharply into focus, so let’s think about how we feel when we taste and smell.
An extra dimension to your sensory experiences
If you have ever been to a tutored wine tasting, you will have been taught how to maximize the experience of the flavours in the wine. You will have discovered how to smell the wine before it even gets to your mouth. Then how to slurp the wine in such a way as to aerate it and release some of the volatile chemicals in it. You will learn which parts of the tongue and mouth are most sensitive to wide variety of flavours in the wine and you will discover why some wines complement some foods and not others.
Wine tasting (or purposefully tasting anything: cheese, coffee, freshly-picked fruit, etc.) can make the experience of consuming food and drink much more profound.
Naturists know that dining naked, outdoors, in a nice environment adds an extra dimension to the experience of a meal. I would like to believe (and I would like to test) whether we really do perceive tastes and smells differently when all of our senses are working together in concert.
In vino veritas? In wine, there is truth
If anyone (e.g. a wine merchant and / or naturist group) would like to join me in setting up a naked wine tasting event, in a natural or biophilic environment, to test this hypothesis, get in touch. What’s the worst that could happen?
In this post, I explore some of the patterns of biophilic design: categorized into nature interactions, spatial qualities, and the psychological impact of environments. The feelings of risk, peril, and awe highlight how these elements could enhance experience in authentic spaces.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
In my last post, I mentioned the work by Terrapin Bright Green about the patterns of biophilia and how they can be incorporated into the built environment. The patterns are grouped into three categories
Nature in the space
This is, essentially, the stuff you put in, on and around a building to evoke a sense of being in nature
Visual connection with nature (e.g. plants and greenery)
Non-visual connection with nature (e.g. scents and soundscapes)
Non-rhythmic connections with nature
Thermal and airflow variability
Presence of water
Dynamic and diffuse light
Connection with natural systems
Natural analogues
This relates to materials and nature-inspired design
Biomorphic forms and patterns
Material connections with nature
Complexity and order
Nature of the space
This is the area I find most fascinating, as it relates not just to what is used, but how the space is used and how we feel in the space.
Prospect: views over a distance
Refuge: a place for withdrawal where there is safety, privacy and room to contemplate
Mystery: encouragement to travel deeper into the environment
Risk / peril: an unidentifiable threat coupled with the knowledge of a reliable safeguard
Awe: stimuli that defy an existing frame of reference and lead to a change in perception
I think that the last two patterns can be the ones that can be most revealing of themselves and of ourselves. This is the bridge between biophilia and aletheia.
The patterns of risk / peril and awe are deeply rooted in our innate psychological and biological responses. When applied to an aletheic environment – a space where truth, non-concealment and unconcealedness are central – the experience becomes about confronting reality directly and authentically.
Experiencing risk and peril in an aletheic environment
Risk and peril is about feeling an identifiable threat coupled with a sense of security. In a true, unconcealed space, this isn’t about physical danger but about psychological and social vulnerability.
The peril is the risk of being seen, judged, and fully exposed, not physically but in a raw, authentic state. The safeguard is the trust and acceptance of the environment and the people within it. This creates a sense of profound psychological safety.
As a sensory experience, the peril could be the feeling of being fully exposed to the elements, such as the cold touch of stone, an unexpected breeze, being caught in a shower of rain or the warmth of the sun on the skin. This is a direct, unmediated sensory feedback which leads to an authentic, unconcealed experience of the environment.
When we consider the design of a space, we might think about spaces with a high, open ceiling (prospect) that also has small, intimate nooks (refuge). The “risk” is the exposure of the open area, while the “safety” is the option to retreat. The design itself mirrors the push and pull of vulnerability and security.
Experiencing awe in an aletheic environment
Awe, as a pattern, is about confronting something vast and complex that challenges our existing understanding. In an aletheic context, awe comes from a sense of truth and connection.
In nature, these environments could be vast forests, open plains, high waterfalls of sheer cliff faces. Places where we really can recognise our vulnerability against such scale and natural power, but also knowing that, as a species, we have been able to navigate, and even thrive, in such environments.
Sometimes, we can also create such spaces. Places like the Great Pyramids, Stonehenge, vast cathedrals and temples all evoke a sense of awe. More modern spaces such as the magnificent palm house at Kew Gardens, the Eden Project in Cornwall or even places such as Bangalore Airport can make one gasp.
Imagine a large indoor waterfall, a living wall that extends through multiple floors, or a glass ceiling that reveals the night sky. These elements present a complex, vast system that you can directly experience, connecting you to something bigger than yourself.
Unconcealed Design
Awe can also come from the honesty of the materials and structure. Exposed building materials like raw concrete, untreated wood, or a direct view of a building’s mechanical systems can be awe-inspiring in their authenticity and lack of artifice.
Lloyds of London building. Photo by Kei Scampa on Pexels.com
The complexity and beauty of biomorphic forms can also inspire awe. A large, spiral staircase mimicking a seashell or a structure with branching columns like a tree can create a sense of wonder and connection to the vast patterns of life.
Interior of Changi Airport, Singapore. Photo by Lynde on Pexels.com
Raw exposure: nudity amplifies the experience
Nudity in these spaces doesn’t just add to the experience; it can fundamentally change it, making the sensations of risk, peril, and awe more intense and immediate. It is easier to achieve in a natural environment, but could be possible in the built environment – perhaps through out-of-hours naturist tours of places like a grand botanic garden or architectural masterpiece.
Being unclothed removes a primary layer of social protection and concealment. It makes the risk of being seen more palpable and immediate, which in turn makes the safety of the trusting environment even more profound. The body’s immediate vulnerability to temperature changes and textures also heightens the sensory peril and the confidence in a safeguard.
Nudity creates a direct and unmediated experience. Being naked removes the physical and psychological barrier between the person and the environment. You are not just observing the space, you are directly interacting with it through your whole body. This unmediated connection enhances the feeling of aletheia, as there is no concealment between you and the truth of the space.
The experience of awe becomes embodied. Instead of just a mental concept, you feel the smallness of your body in a vast space or the intricate complexity of a natural pattern against your skin. This can lead to a deeper, more visceral sense of wonder and connection to the world around you.
The integration of nudity in an aletheic, biophilic space is not just about personal preference but about a deeper philosophical alignment with the patterns themselves, a move towards total non-concealment and an authentic experience of the world.
The post discusses the benefits of biophilic design in home offices and other remote working environments. I explore whether performance, effectiveness and job satisfaction can be improved when the body is relaxed and the mind in a state of flow. I mention my personal experiences with naturism and, and advocate for comfort and sensory coherence in workspace design. I also suggest potential revenue opportunities for naturist venues.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
A different way of working from home
In a recent post, I wrote about creating spaces for meditation, especially naked meditation. It is a practice that gives an opportunity to notice one’s feelings and a place in the environment in a pure, unconcealed form.
That purposeful activity can be good to aid relaxation, decompress and clear the mind. I often start my working day with some meditation. Sometimes I will take a break from the desk and meditate during the day as well.
I work from home, and have done for almost twenty years, so when the pandemic hit and lockdown was imposed, I found it easy to adapt. I had a garden office and, at the time, lived in house in the countryside. The only thing that really changed was that even more of my work was conducted online and visits to offices and customers stopped completely.
Garden office in winter
This was also the time that I started my own business and ceased to be an employee (although not necessarily in that order!)
It was also a period when I contemplated naturism as more than just the beach activity that I had previously enjoyed.
I’ll get back to that.
Flow
Flow is a state that, when you get into it, seems to allow you to work with great clarity and almost without effort. When you get into that state, time flies and work gets done. However, every distraction or interruption can take you out of the flow state, and it can take several minutes to get back into it.
In many offices, noise is a major distraction. In an open plan space, it is impossible not to tune in to conversations taking place nearby. This is probably an artefact of our evolution – if there is a threat (or opportunity), it’s a good idea to know about it quickly and act accordingly. However, the brain tunes in before realising that the conversation is only about someone cooking fish in the office microwave. At that point, flow has stopped and it takes a while to get going again. This is one reason why a lot of people wear headphones in the office – not just to take calls, but to block out inane chit-chat.
It’s not just noise. Flow can be disrupted by any distraction, and that distraction can be the result of getting confused sensory inputs. This is where biophilic design comes in.
Biophilic design for sensory coherence
A lot of people think that biophilic design is just putting plants in buildings. Plants are certainly a vital component, but biophilic design is really about creating spaces that allow all of our senses to work together in harmony. The things we see should be reinforced, not contradicted, by what we hear, touch, feel and smell. It is about creating built environments that evoke a feeling of nature that relates to our evolutionary history.
An organization called Terrapin Bright Green has been at the forefront of biophilic design thinking, and it has produced its famous and insightful publication about the 14 Patterns of Biophilic Design (to which a 15th category, Awe, has recently been added).
The fourteen patterns are grouped into three categories: nature IN the space, nature OF the space and natural analogues.
A truly biophilic workspace is a significantly better place to be compared with a more conventionally-designed office, and is probably more productive. Certainly, a lot of employers are investing a lot of money into workspaces that are more comfortable and aid wellbeing.
Home working
Many office workers (maybe even the majority in some countries) work from home at least some of the time, and the home office is rarely as expensively fitted out as the most modern office building. The home office may not be free from distractions. However, there are things that can be done to help get into a state of flow. Including a couple of things that can’t easily be done in an office.
A few years ago, I was involved with a research programme carried out at the University of Exeter, which demonstrated that the more autonomy and empowerment office workers had over their working environment (from furnishings to decoration, and even the positioning of pot plants), the more comfortable they were.
When they were more comfortable, they were happier, had greater job satisfaction and, ultimately, were more productive.
The home office is where autonomy over the working environment is almost complete.
Sensory coherence and connection with your environment are the key to success. A working space that provides a true, aletheic connection with nature can be very effective.
Let’s start with the basics.
Comfortable furniture and good lighting are priorities
Without those, then the chances of working comfortably, and productively are diminished. Lighting, in particular, is important and I would recommend investing in a good quality desk lamp as well as making the most of smart lighting and windows.
Next,
Temperature and ventilation need to be considered
Most homes don’t have air conditioning, so managing the indoor climate is under your own control. You have the power to turn on the heating, light a fire, open a window or use a fan as you wish.
Admittedly, the recent heatwaves here in England have made keeping cool quite difficult, but there are ways to make it bearable – especially if you can shift your working hours to the cooler parts of the day.
Working in a home office also means that clothes are much less important and can be worn (or not) for comfort rather than image and convention. Video calls, however, might require one to wear something more business-like.
Biophilic design in the home office
Once the basics of a home workspace are in place, we can look at some more biophilic elements. Here are a few tips.
Give yourself a view
If possible, arrange your desk so that when you look up from the keyboard or screen you can see out of a window. Even if the view is of another building, it will be something distant to focus on, and that will ease eye strain and bring give you a sense of what is going on outside – it might help you decide whether to venture out on a break, or hunker down in the warm, but whatever the weather, you will connect to the world outside.
Open a window
An open window will refresh the air and flush out excess carbon dioxide and other pollutants generated inside the home. It will also bring the sounds of the outside world in – you may hear voices or birdsong or the sound of the wind. It might also be traffic noise, but even that can sometimes be a relief from silence.
Buy some houseplants
This is the eye-catching, Instagram-friendly intervention that will illustrate the pages of the colour supplements and lifestyle websites. However, it is an effective way of bringing some life indoors.
Houseplants need not be expensive or huge. Ikea, for example, has some terrific plants and pots at very good prices (and I know a lot about indoor plants, so you can trust my judgement on this). They add green interest to the indoor environment and also demand some care. Watering (not too much), cleaning and trimming, and arranging plants can be very therapeutic.
Follow your nose
Our sense of smell is our most primitive – detecting chemicals in the environment (which is what the sense of smell is all about) was the first sense to evolve in the animal kingdom. We often react to scents instinctively and before we are consciously aware of them, so we can use fragrances to create a multi-dimensional sensory environment very easily. The range and quality of home fragrances is more comprehensive than ever before, so there is bound to be something appealing.
I’m not going to go down the road of recommending particular scents for particular settings or tasks – we risk straying into pseudoscience – just choose something that you, and your housemates, like.
Water
We use our sense of hearing and smell to detect the presence of water, often before we see it – this is a survival mechanism. As wild animals, we needed to be able to find safe water – not just to drink, but to find prey that also needed a drink.
The sound of rainfall or babbling streams can be found easily just by asking Alexa (or other smart speaker system). A fish tank or small indoor water feature can also be soothing.
Take care of your skin
The skin is your largest sense organ. As well as stopping your insides from escaping, your skin is home to sensors that detect temperature, pressure, movement and resistance, shape and texture. It even senses changes in humidity and static electricity.
Don’t starve it of sensation. Use different textures around your workstation and allow your skin to be stimulated – maybe all of it, not just the hands and face. Someone once suggested to me that clothes on skin were akin to a blindfold for the eyes.
Create a breeze (not a draught), experience some sunlight or even take a shower for pleasure rather than utility.
Comfort is the key
Biophilic design isn’t just about plants. It isn’t about bringing nature indoors. It is about being comfortable – physically and mentally. Comfort brings happiness and happiness is the key to both life satisfaction and also job satisfaction. A little investment in comfort can pay huge dividends for the individual and employers relying on home-based workers.
Non-rhythmic sensations: shadows and sounds
Nature is pretty random. The sites and sounds of nature are rarely regular. Think of the sounds made by wind or rainfall, the rustling of leaves or the play of shadows across the ground. These non-rhythmic stimuli can be replicated in the home too: flames in fireplace or candle, the sounds of rainfall (as mentioned earlier) or even the impact of water droplets on the skin from a shower can be comforting and calming.
Working naked
I mentioned earlier that during the Covid lockdowns of 2020 my exploration of naturism shifted. Before then, I occasionally visited naturist beaches, often on holiday, because it felt comfortable and liberating. Swimwear seemed pointless and nude swimming was a revelation.
However, during lockdown, with access to a secluded garden and with time on my hands, I started to think more deeply about naturism, its philosophy (or philosophies – there are as many as there are naturists) and the reasons for it feeling so good.
I took to spending time in the garden naked, which was wonderful. The complete, uncovered connection with my environment revealed more about me than just my body. Something deeper stirred.
Then I experimented with not getting dressed for work unless I had a video call. I don’t think I was alone in that. If anecdotes on social media are anything to go by, lots of people experimented with naked working.
Mental clarity
My own experience (and this may not be everyone’s) was one of clarity. I could enter a flow state more quickly, think more clearly and get more stuff done. This may be coincidence, but it may also be as a result of the holistic, coherent sensory environment that I had created. My home office was already pretty biophilic, but now it was not just the stuff in the office, it was the interaction between my environment and my whole self that seemed to work.
These days, unless it is very cold, or if I have to take part in video calls, I will probably be naked when working in my home office.
Try it for yourself – you have nothing to lose, and you might find that you work better as a result.
Get in touch if you would like some advice on how to design your own aletheic home office – there’s a contact form at the end of this post.
Opportunities for naturist-friendly venues
I cannot foresee a time (certainly in my remaining lifetime) that companies will create nude working zones in their office buildings. It is true that wellbeing and biophilia are informing design choices in offices, but enabling naturist work is unlikely to take off. There may be some opportunities to use the plethora of wellness rooms that are appearing in office buildings, but I don’t see it happening as a mainstream way of working.
Remote workers and freelancers often find themselves working from coffee shops, coworking spaces or even motorway services. These are not always ideal places to work, and are often noisy, distracting and very far from being biophilic. However, there may be some spaces that could be used.
According to a recent survey highlighted by British Naturism, over 6 million people in the UK have taken part in naturist activities. A lot of those people will be office workers. Some of those office workers may well rely on remote locations for some of their work.
I think there is an opportunity for naturist clubs to take advantage of this potential market. There is an opportunity to open up a new revenue stream and make some extra income during the winter months, or during periods of bad weather when traditional naturist activities are limited.
Many clubs have pavilions or club houses. With a few biophilic interventions, maybe an upgrade to their internet connections and some desks and office chairs, they could set themselves up as co-working spaces for those that would like the opportunity to work unconfined by clothing.
Access could be given to members of British Naturism, or a network of venues could set up a membership scheme (subject to the usual vetting processes) and users could join a subscription scheme or just pay as they used a space.
If you run a naturist venue and think that this is an idea worth looking into, get in touch. I would be happy to have a chat about it with you, and maybe even visit your location see what might be possible.
Get in touch for advice about creating an aletheic home office or remote working environment
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
You may have noticed that I am currently writing this website anonymously. This might seem odd, as one of the points of the site is to discover possible business opportunities and collaborations. So, who am I?
There is a good reason for my reticence
None of the people that I work with on a day-to-day basis are aware of my interest and participation in naturism. That may not be a problem for many people and (if recent surveys are anything to go by) there is a good chance that many colleagues and customers have taken part in naturist activities. Those that I have confided in have been very supportive and understand where I’m coming from.
However, a very significant portion of my existing, and potential, client base in my day-to-day work are companies owned by members of a very conservative religious group who would have great difficulty in understanding, let alone tolerating, the ideas that I’m trying to develop here.
Let me be clear. These companies are, generally, run by good people. They are usually very good employers and their business ethics are, mostly, pretty sound. They have modernised and know that they have to be more accepting of people from backgrounds different to theirs if they want to succeed in business. But, I am pretty sure that the concepts behind creating aletheic spaces would be uncomfortable and probably too alien for them to consider working with me again.
Authenticity
You may think that I should be braver and also be authentic – after all, I believe that authenticity is a core tenet of naturism and aletheia is all about revealing the truth. Maybe I should.
Should I risk potential income from one segment of my potential market place to open up new opportunities?
Please leave a comment. Your thoughts would be very welcome.
Reflections on the ups and downs I experienced post-pandemic, and how meditation has helped my mental health. Through personal insights, I discuss finding peaceful spots for meditation, both outdoors and indoors, and suggest creating calming environments with natural elements. The potential benefits of nude meditation and the role of wellness spaces are also highlighted.
Note: This post explores the psychological and wellbeing benefits of naturism within biophilic environments. It contains illustrations depicting nudity and the human form.
A period of change
The last few years have had their ups and downs for me, and for many others as we emerged into our post-pandemic world of seemingly ever more uncertainty. New ways of working and the stresses of a high cost of living have taken their toll on mental health.
Now, I am not a therapist, and I don’t pretend to be able to offer advice, but I can say that taking fifteen to thirty minutes out of my day for meditation has done me the power of good.
I started with guided meditations (and there are some good sources available online), but now I tend to guide myself. The key is to really notice how you feel, and that includes how your body feels in relation to the space you are in.
It is possible to meditate almost anywhere, although quiet places are best. When distractions are minimized, and the place where you are meditating is calm, I think the process becomes more effective.
Connecting with nature
Connecting with nature makes a positive difference, as that reduces stress before you even start. Just being in a natural environment has been shown to reduce stress and improve wellbeing – even if only for as little as ten minutes a day. Find a quiet spot, notice how you feel and take time.
Having a literal connection with the Earth and the air can make the experience more profound. If you have access to a place where you can undress and experience nature in your most natural state, then you may uncover more than just your skin. For me, and I can speak only for myself, a state of nudity in nature when meditating reveals not only a connection with nature, but a realisation of our own place in nature.
Of course, finding such a place to go may be difficult. Not everyone is comfortable with the idea of being naked in a potentially public place (and in some countries, that may also be illegal, although thankfully not in the UK). So, what are the alternatives?
If you are lucky, you may have a quiet, secluded garden. Being able to step through your back door into your own private space is a luxury, but one that need not be expensive. Some simple screening with plants and the placement of items such as water features or a sculpture can help create a naturalistic feel and still allow a deep connection with nature. A patio or terrace can be put to good use too.
Indoor spaces
Meditation should be comfortable and sometimes that means having to avoid bad weather. This is where the principles of biophilic design can be used to create indoor spaces that evoke a sense of being in nature, even when actually being in nature is not practical.
This means using a combination of elements including using natural materials, plants, natural colour schemes and textures. The most important thing is to be free from distractions and to feel comfortable.
Meditation is all about noticing how you feel. When it works well, you get into a state of calm, relaxation and mental clarity. Having that interrupted by noise or sudden changes in light or temperature can spoil things.
In the home, a living room or bedroom can be ideal. So, how could you set about creating an aletheic space for meditation?
Here are some general principles.
Mindful decluttering
Regardless of the room’s primary function, the most crucial step is to keep the space free from unnecessary distractions and clutter, so if possible, keep non-essential items stored away and out of sight when not in use.
Natural materials and colours
A palette of subtle, natural colours like warm whites, greens and earthy tones can be relaxing. Use materials such as reclaimed wood for furniture, linen for soft furnishings, and wool or jute for rugs. This creates a calming, organic feel that connects you with nature.
Layered lighting
Instead of a single harsh overhead light, use multiple sources. Consider a floor lamp with a linen shade for soft, diffused light, and maybe a small, warm-toned lamp on a side table. This allows you to create a gentle ambiance for meditation that differs from the room’s everyday use.
A designated zone
Use a large rug to define the meditation zone. Use furniture, such a s a coffee table, which can be easily moved to the side when you want to meditate.
Plants
Incorporate a few large, statement houseplants in nice pots. Their large leaves will not only add a touch of nature but can also serve to create a sense of seclusion and privacy when you sit near them. Moss panels on the walls can also add some biophilic elements – they are tactile, green and also have good acoustic properties.
The bedroom as a meditative space
A bedroom is naturally a more private space, making it an intuitive choice for a meditation sanctuary. If floor space is limited, the bed itself can be used. the most important thing is to be able to focus on your feelings without distraction. Natural linen bedding in neutral colours would be ideal.
Adapting the Space for nude meditation
Your space should support your meditation practice without feeling forced or exposed, so try to position your meditation spot in a way that provides privacy. Remember, though, that the aletheic concept is also about uncovering something about your own nature in your environment. That slight sense of exposure or vulnerability can be quite revealing, so while protecting your own privacy, don’t lock yourself in.
The careful placement of plants can provide a sense of seclusion and privacy while allowing light to permeate the space through the foliage.
Using foliage near windows and light sources can also create wonderful shadows, which can be used to create areas of partial concealment and intimacy, allowing you to feel both exposed to the environment and protected within it.
Spas and wellness spaces
Many health clubs, spas and other wellness spaces provide space for meditation. These days, even some workplaces provide wellness rooms (although they are often not used as in some organizations, their use can be viewed as a sign of weakness, which many people do not want to risk).
I think that there is an opportunity for health spas, hotels and other wellness spaces – beyond existing naturist clubs – to offer space for nude meditation. Not everyone that would use such spaces would consider themselves naturists or be members of a naturist club or society, but may very well wish to take advantage of a space where they could disrobe and make a complete, unconcealed connection with nature.
This is also an opportunity for naturist venues to widen their offer and open some of their spaces up for focused activities such as solo nude mediation. This could make it easier for some people to consider aspects of naked wellness without having to jump into the full gamut of more traditional naturist activities.
Interested in an aletheic space for your home or naturist club?
Get in touch to book a consultation and let’s design a calming, authentic environment together.
Humans traditionally recognize five senses, but we actually possess many more. These senses work together to interpret the environment, essential for survival. Modern urban settings can overwhelm our senses, leading to stress. Biophilic design aims to restore sensory balance by incorporating nature, enhancing comfort and overall well-being, much like the harmony of an orchestra.
Introducing the sense orchestra
Consider vision. What do we actually sense with our eyes?
We use our eyes to see shapes, estimate distances, perceive colour, determine brightness, work out which way is up, detect movement, tell us about the direction we are facing, or moving towards, and estimate speed. Changes in brightness and daylength tell us about passing of time and the change of the seasons.
Our eyes are very much our primary sense, but what we see makes more sense if it is confirmed by what we hear, smell, touch and taste.
Our stereophonic hearing helps us to know where we are in relation to the source of the noise. Is it to our left or right, or even behind us? Is it moving towards us or away? And other tiny organs in our ears work in harmony with our eyes to tell us which way is up and how fast we are moving and turning.
Our eyes, nose and mouth working together are critical for telling us whether something is safe to eat, and our tongue is more than just a collection of taste buds – it is full of sensors that inform us about textures and temperatures.
We have sense organs inside our body. They tell us if we have indigestion or when we have an infection, or have sustained damage. Understanding and interpreting our internal senses is called interoception – a new word for me.
Our biggest sense organ is, of course, our skin. It tells us so much about our environment. We detect temperature, texture, hardness, malleability, size, shape and the quality of materials. The hairs on our skin can respond to changes in static electricity and there is no doubt that touch can generate the most intense pleasure.
Composing the piece
Human senses work together to help us to understand our environment, or rather the environment that we spent well over 90% of our existence (maybe as much 99% if you include our immediate hominid ancestors).
Our senses evolved to allow us to survive in a particular environment: open savannah. This environment is characterized by open vistas, undulating terrain, scattered and clustered vegetation and plenty of water. It was quite warm, although there were some seasonal variations. In our ancestral, natural environment, our senses told us about opportunities and threats. However, they need to work in harmony to give us the full picture.
The modern, urban environment is quite a long way from those open plains. Buildings mean that sounds echo around so the direction we hear from is not the same as where we see the source. We bombard some of our senses whilst simultaneously dull others. After all, we cover most of our largest sense organ, most of the time, and deprive ourselves of gaining vital information about our environment.
These confusing, discordant inputs cause stress. We have to make a lot of mental effort to understand what is going on.
Melody and harmony
The practice of biophilic design – bringing a sense of nature into our built environment – is a step towards correcting this sensory discord. It often focuses on the visual sense by incorporating natural views, plants, and natural light, and it is becoming increasingly commonplace in modern design.
However, an aletheic environment brings a new level of comfort and restoration by going even further. The idea is to provide complete, harmonious sensory stimulation that restores the connection our ancestors once had. While it may not be possible in every space (office naturism is probably a step too far for most), we can create restorative environments in our places of leisure and living that allow us to experience this deep reconnection.
The orchestral score
The metaphor with music is a good one. By thoughtfully designing spaces that appeal to all of our senses in an unfiltered way, we can go beyond simply adding plants. We can compose a full symphony, where every input works together to create an experience that is far more than the sum of its parts.
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